The Revenge of the Wolf Man
by Xanderlike
Summary: Ronald Talbot is about to discover that his grandfather is still alive ... and so is the fearful legacy of the Wolf Man!  A Sequel to the entire Universal Horror Movie franchise as opposed to just the Wolf Man.
1. Chapter 1

Note: These particular versions of Dracula, Frankenstein, Frankenstein's Bride, the

Wolfman are the property of Universal Pictures. The Alligator Man belongs

To 20th Century Fox.

Prologue

Larry struggled futilely against the chains that held him. Again and again, the big man threw himself forward in a desperate attempt to wrench free of his bonds. His wrists were slick with his own blood, but Larry didn't care. Pain didn't matter; only his freedom did.

The heavy dungeon door opened. Larry whimpered as torchlight assailed his fragile eyes. "And how are you this evening, old friend?" The voice was as familiar as it was accented.

"Let me go, Count," Larry snarled. "You can't hold me forever. Sooner or later, I'm going to get free. And when I do—"

The Count laughed. "You have been saying that for over twenty years, old friend. And you are still chained."

Larry growled . . . a bestial sound. He could feel the moon calling to him as it had done for over fifty years. The full moon brought madness and bloodshed . . . but also power. Maybe – just maybe – power enough to win his freedom. He pulled on his chains again.

"I never get tired of watching this," the Count confided to Larry. "We are all beasts, old friend – you're just a more blatant example."

"What do you want?" Larry demanded. His eyes were starting to grow more sensitive. The light of the torch was dim, but it was enough for him to see the fine coat of hair that was beginning to grow on his hands.

"I just wanted to let you know my plans are in motion. I've summoned them to the castle – the Scientist's descendant and the latest – and last – of your line."

"Leave him out of this!" Larry could barely speak. His intellect was slipping away with his humanity, but he still felt keenly – perhaps even more as he changed – the ties of blood.

The Count laughed. "But, Lawrence, I am giving you the chance to have a family reunion. Surely you wish to behold your grandson."

"No!" Larry howled . . . and the last of his humanity was gone by the time that cry was finished. Only the Wolf remained now . . . only the Beast.

With a growl, the Wolf redoubled its efforts to break free. It knew the thing that stood before him – it looked like a man but its scent was anything but human – was an enemy. And the Wolf was just human enough to be able to hate . . . .

He snapped the chains.

The Count did not move as the Wolf came closer to him. The beast, for all its fury, was cautious. There was something about this not-man that warned him that the Count was the most dangerous creature he had ever faced.

"Elsa," the Count said softly, "bring it in."

The dungeon door opened again, and a woman walked into the cell. She carried a human body as though it weighed no more than a rag doll.

The Wolf sniffed the woman and backed away in confusion. She smelled no more human than the Count. The animal part of him warned that here was danger . . . even to him.

"I'll take that," the Count said, taking the body from the woman's hands. He glanced at the face and wrinkled his nose. "We were close, this time. But not close enough. Ah, well. At least we can recycle. Here, old friend. Eat well!"

And the Count threw the body on the floor in front of the Wolf.

The Wolf paused. The body smelled odd, but it was fresh . . . and still warm. The Change always made him ravenous . . . and here was easy meat.

Growling, he fell upon the corpse.

The Count cautiously walked backwards out of the cell. With obvious relief on his face, he closed the door and locked it. "Enjoy your meal, Lawrence Talbot. You do not have many left."

Laughing, Count Dracula turned and went to prepare for his guests.


	2. Chapter 2

The moon shone over the waters of the Atlantic Ocean. A warm breeze caressed his face. It was a night made for lovers.

Ron Talbot grimaced. He had no place for romance in his life- not now. "Vonnie," he whispered to the woman at his side, "are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Trust me, Ron," Veronica Winters whispered in her soft voice. She took one of his hands in her own and squeezed it. "I've brought you this far, haven't I?"

Ron smiled at the woman. "Yes you have. You've been a good friend, Vonnie. I appreciate everything you've done for me."

Vonnie smiled back at him. She was slender and pale, with owl-frame glasses. She was not beautiful, but there was something arresting about her features. Like Ron, she was twenty-one years old, but she could have easily passed for a very young teenager. "I'll do whatever I can for you, Ron. You know that."

Talbot squeezed her hand. "I know." _I like Vonnie, but I don't have the right to get involved now- even if she did literally fall into my lap._

Ron Talbot did not believe in luck, but he couldn't deny that meeting Veronica Winters had been one of the most fortunate moments in his life. If he had not met her that night in the library at Triad University- if she had not stumbled and fallen onto him- then he might never had this hope- however slight- of a cure.

She gave him hope- and he both feared and distrusted hope.

Talbot restlessly strode back and forth on the dock. "How much longer do you think he'll be?"

"I don't know. The letter said Dr. Alucard was expecting other guests- maybe he's waiting for them to arrive."

"He would have to live on an island, wouldn't he?" Ron snarled.

"Terrill Island," Vonnie said. "What do you have against an island?"

"Ever read 'The Most Dangerous Game'?" Ron Talbot asked by way of reply. "How do we know he's not some kind of kook who'll do God knows what to us once we set foot on his island?"

"That's not exactly likely, is it?" Vonnie said in amusement. "Look, I called- everyone knows where we've gone. You don't have anything to worry about."

Ron sighed. "Sorry." He gestured at the moon. "I seem to get more . . . irritable this time of the month."

"How interesting," someone said, "that's normally a woman's excuse."

Talbot spun on his feet- he was surprisingly agile for a man of his stocky build- and said, "Who's there?"

"Just me. Us." A woman walked out of the shadows- a tall, aristocratic woman in her thirties. Her hair was as black as midnight, and her clothing was not much lighter. Everything about her screamed money and privilege- her clothing, her jewelry, and the way she spoke. "I am Doctor Elizabeth Franklin. This is my . . . servant, Adam. Adam, please, introduce yourself."

Adam walked out of the darkness. He was a tall man- at least seven feet tall- clad in a gray business suit. His face was long and serious and slightly jaundiced. He carried suitcases in his arms- large, bulky luggage, which he carried as though it weighed nothing at all. He looked down at Ron Talbot and Veronica Winters with cold, dead eyes.

"Hello, Adam," Vonnie said nervously.

"Charmed," Ron said. _He's strong, but he moves like molasses in winter. Best way to take down would be to go for his knees, hamstring him . . . _He blinked. _Why the hell did I just think that?_

"Adam," Dr. Franklin warned.

Adam grunted.

"Do you know our host?" Ron asked the doctor.

Doctor Franklin paused. "I believe that he's an old friend of the family. I've never met him myself. He wrote me saying that he's come across a . . . family heirloom . . . that he wants to return to me."

"Couldn't he have just mailed it?" Ron asked.

"I'm afraid that it's rather large to ship by UPS," Dr. Franklin replied. She had a definite look of amusement on her face. "If I might ask, who are you?"

Talbot and Vonnie introduced themselves.

"Indeed?" Dr. Franklin said when she heard Talbot's name. "How every interesting."

"Why?"

"I believe that I may have come across some mention of a relative of yours in my father's records. Do you know of a Lawrence Talbot, by any chance?"

Talbot shrugged. "No, but that doesn't mean anything. My dad died when I was very young and my mother didn't know any of his relatives." He spoke the words in short, clipped tones; he never liked to talk about his father. _I just hope to God that- whatever's wrong with me- isn't what Dad had. I don't want to wind up like him . . . _

Adam grunted and pointed at the ocean.

A boat appeared on the horizon. A black boat with red lights like blood. It moved swiftly, but silently. It was almost alive.

"The dead travel swiftly," Dr. Franklin whispered for no reason.

The boat docked within a matter of minutes. A woman expertly threw a rope around a dock pole. She wore a dark scuba outfit. Her hair was dark, but streaked with white. She moved oddly, almost mechanically.

Adam gasped when he saw her.

"Could it be?" Elizabeth Franklin asked softly.

_I don't like this,_ Ron Talbot decided. _I don't like this at all._

The woman- when she spoke- had a slight but definite English accent. "I am Elsa," she announced. "The Doctor sent me. If you are ready, we can leave immediately."

Adam looked at Elizabeth Franklin. There was a question in his dark eyes.

"Go on, Adam," Doctor Franklin said. "We'll see this through."

Grunting, Adam walked towards the boat- and Elsa.

Dr. Alucard's assistant drew back as Adam came near her. She hissed like a cat.

"Some things never change," Doctor Franklin murmured.

"Vonnie, I don't think you should come with me," Ron Talbot whispered. "I don't like any of this- but I have to check this out. You don't, though. Stay here, where's it's safe. I'll call you as soon as I can."

"I'm going with you," Vonnie told him. "Deal with it, Ron."

He hadn't known her long, but Ron Talbot knew that tone of voice. There was no point in arguing with her now. All he could do was try to keep her from harm.

He picked up what little luggage they had and walked over to the boat. Adam took the luggage from him and placed it with the Doctor's.

"Thanks," Ron said, smiling at the giant.

The yellow giant blinked in surprise, then smiled.

Ron helped Vonnie onto the boat. As Vonnie checked over their luggage, he leaned towards Elsa. He gestured at Adam. "Old friend of yours?"

Elsa looked at him oddly- she had the same cold eyes as Adam- and shrugged. "I met him once- a long time ago."

"So what's Terrill Island like?"

Elsa shrugged as she started the engine and turned the boat back to sea. "It's an island." She hesitated. "It has another name around here."

"What's that?"

"Terror Island."

Ron Talbot sighed. "Oh, yeah. This is definitely a _good_ idea."


	3. Chapter 3

Elsa proved to be a very good pilot of the speedboat. They arrived at Terror Island in a surprisingly short time.

"The dead travel swiftly," the enigmatic Dr. Franklin repeated when Ron Talbot mentioned it to her.

"Oh yeah," Ron muttered to himself. "This trip just keeps on getting better."

Vonnie Winters smiled and squeezed his hand. "Trust me, Ron."

"Of course I trust you," Ron replied. He pointed at Dr. Franklin, Elsa, and Adam. "It's _them_ I don't trust."

The dock at Terror Island was large, old, and somewhat rotted. Elsa tied the boat to the dock and then jumped onto the dock with surprising agility. Then she helped the passengers off the boat.

Her strength was astonishing- she literally _pulled_ Ron out of the boat. She saw the amazement in his eyes and shrugged eloquently.

_This is a woman who could do a lot of things to a man,_ Ron thought, _and not all of them would be pleasant._

The giant, Adam, refused to accept her help. He clambered out of the boat himself. He was large and powerful and somewhat clumsy- yet he had a curious resemblance to Elsa. It was nothing obvious, but Ron's instincts told him the two of them were alike in ways that were not immediately apparent.

Dr. Franklin watched them with a bemused smile on her lips. There was something unpleasant about her manner. Something detached and clinical.

_She looks at the whole world like a lab experiment,_ Ron thought_. And I don't think she's opposed to vivisection._

"The house is this way," Elsa said, gesturing for them to follow her.

It wasn't a long walk- no more five minutes- before they came across the house. Actually, "house" was bit of a misnomer. "Mansion" was more appropriate; "castle" even more so. It was a huge structure of brick and marble and would not have been out of place among the great fortresses of Europe, though it was perhaps 1/4 their size.

The front doors were large enough that even Adam would not have to stoop to walk through them. They were black iron, with demon-headed knockers, but Elsa opened them as though they weighed nothing. "Enter freely and of your own will," she told them.

Ron bit his lip and hesitated.

Vonnie looked at him questioningly.

"Something feels wrong, Von. I can't explain it, but I feel like- like I'm walking into a cage." He shuddered violently. "I don't like cages."

Vonnie squeezed his hand. "Dr. Alucard will help you, Ron. I know he will. Trust me."

With every nerve screaming in protest, Ron elected to do just that.

Elsa led them through the main hall until they came to a large dining room. A table long enough to serve fifty people was set for four. Wine bottles set in ice buckets, roasts steamed on the table, and the air was filled with delicious aromas.

Ron's mouth began to water, but he still did not relax.

"Have a seat," Elsa said. "I'll return with the master- Dr. Alucard."

Master?

Ron growled- a sound that was not at all human.

The others looked at him. Vonnie with shock. Dr. Franklin with that damned knowing smile on her face. Adam with . . . recognition?

"Sorry," Ron said as he slumped into his chair.

The others sat down as well. Adam had a chair that should have been able to support the weight of a full-grown bear; it creaked alarmingly under his weight, but held. He stared across the table at Ron and nodded.

"Ah, how nice to see everyone at the table. Please don't bother to rise." The voice was cultured, smooth, with a slight but noticeable accent. The speaker was of average height, but moved as though he was ten feet tall. He was dressed in a black tuxedo and tie.

"Welcome to my home," he said with a bow. "I am . . . Alucard."

Adam's reaction to the good doctor's presence was astonishing. He stumbled out of his chair, his face twisted into a mask of hatred. He growled at the doctor and waved his arm at the man as though he was trying to ward off a fly.

Alucard did not seem frightened by the giant's reactions. If anything, he seemed amused. "Ah, old friend, how nice to see you again. I must say that the years have been very kind to you. I have never seen you looking so good."

Adam growled and took a step towards Alucard.

"Adam, no!" Dr. Franklin said.

The giant looked at her. For the first time, Ron Talbot saw something alive in the eyes of the giant. And it was not a pleasant sight. For a moment, Ron found himself wondering if the giant would obey Franklin . . . or rip out her throat.

Finally he sat down again.

"Dr. Frank . . . lin, isn't it?" Alucard nodded at her. "How nice to know that your family survives."

"We're very prolific," Franklin replied.

"Veronica," Alucard said with a familiarity that made Ron take notice. "You have done well."

"I did my best, My Lord." Vonnie bowed her head with a grace that seemed completely unlike her.

_What the hell-? _Ron asked himself.

"And Mr. Talbot." Alucard's eyes burned into his own. Dark they were, seemingly without pupil or iris. Dark eyes, dead eyes, with nothing of humanity or mercy in them. "I have waited a long time to meet you, sir. I've known your grandfather a long time."

"Grandfather?" Ron blinked. "Are you saying he's alive?"

"Indeed he is. I trust you'll meet him shortly."

"Doctor Alucard," Dr. Franklin said with heavy irony in her voice, "I've traveled a long way. Do you have what you promised me?"

"Of course I do, my dear." Alucard had a seat at the head of his table. "But such talk should be done after dinner, don't you think? Please forgive me if I do not eat or drink. I have eaten earlier and I never drink . . . wine."

"Dr. Alucard, I don't mean to be impolite, but I've traveled a long way, too," Ron said. "And if someone doesn't tell me what's going on, I'll-"

Alucard looked at him. "Do what? Leave? We are on an island, Mr. Talbot. It would be along swim back to civilization."

"Ron," Vonnie said, "trust him."

Ron looked at her, and Veronica Winters turned away from what she saw in his eyes. "I think I've been doing too much trusting lately, 'Veronica.'"

"Very well, then." Alucard rose to his feet. "If the two of you are so impatient we will begin now." He looked at Franklin. "Should I tell him or would you prefer to do the honors?"

Dr. Franklin shrugged. "Go ahead."

"As you wish, Baroness."

"My family no longer has that title."

"A pity. Nobility should be preserved, especially in these times."

"Baroness?" Ron looked at the two of them. "What the hell's going on?"

"Dr. Franklin's true name is Frankenstein, Mr. Talbot. She is a direct descendant of Henry Frankenstein. You may have heard of him."

"Henry Frankenstein? Frankenstein? As in-?"

"Correct. As in Frankenstein's Monster."

Adam growled.

"All in good time, old friend." Alucard shrugged. "I always wondered what happened to you when I couldn't find your body in the swamp. I'd thought the alligators had gotten you. You must have crawled out on your own." He smiled. "Ah, well. My time there was not a total waste. I did find some rather interesting creatures . . ."

"My grandfather found him," Dr. Franklin- Frankenstein- said. "We've spent the last fifty years healing him. He went through quite a bit while in your service, 'Doctor.'"

She patted Adam on the shoulder. "Still, I think we've done rather well."

"Wait a minute!" Ron said. "Are you saying that he's the Monster? Frankenstein's Monster?"

"He is," Elsa said, coming into the room with a cloth-covered silver tray. "And so am I."

"I thought as much," Dr. Frankenstein commented, sipping her wine.

"I went back to your family's castle after I failed to find our mutual friend," Alucard told Dr. Frankenstein. "I found Elsa sleeping underneath the rocks and rubble of your great-great-grandfather's ruined tower. She was still alive after nearly a century of entombment. Your ancestor built well, Dr. Frankenstein."

"Yes, he did," Frankenstein said. "So this is the Bride." She looked Elsa up and down. "Very nice work."

Elsa bowed her head.

Ron shook his head. "You're all nuts."

Alucard turned his eyes back to Ron. "You think so, Mr. Talbot? Well, let me tell you about your grandfather:

"Almost sixty years ago, Lawrence Talbot returned home following the death of his older brother. He had no way of knowing that simple action would doom him to an eternity of torment and suffering. He had no way of knowing what blood would be spilt as a result of that decision.

"Your grandfather was bitten by a werewolf, Mr. Talbot. And he became one himself: an indestructible killer who feasted on the flesh of his victims- an undying avatar of evil."

"That's not true," Ron said.

"Oh, but it is. For a brief time, Lawrence thought himself cured. He married, had a son . . . and then the wolf came back. Knowing that the wolf would kill his family if he stayed, Talbot left your grandmother and father and eventually crossed paths with me.

"But it was too late. His blood carried the taint of the wolf, and it had been passed down to his son. Your father, John Talbot- did you ever learn why he killed himself, Ronald?"

Talbot said nothing.

"He felt the wolf rising in him. He knew that it would kill your mother and then you if it wasn't stopped . . . so John stopped it. The only way he could."

"But you carry the taint as well, Ron."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it?" Alucard smiled. "I investigated you thoroughly, Mr. Talbot. I know all about you- about the bully you nearly killed at age ten. The dog you killed at fourteen. The bar fights- I know you have a blood lust, a hunger, that you have never quite understood. I know it all."

"Who the hell are you?" Ron demanded. "Who are you to know these things?"

"Who am I?" Alucard smiled and bowed formally. "I am . . . Count Dracula."


	4. Chapter 4

"You're nuts," Ron Talbot growled in a voice that he barely recognized as his own. "Crazy. The lot of you are insane!"

Ron could feel the anger clawing at the back of his mind. Alucard- _Dracula? - _was right about one thing: he'd always had a ferocious temper. Most of the time he was able to keep it in check, but at times- especially during the full moon- it had broken loose like a rabid dog . . .

Or wolf.

_That's insane!_ Ron told himself. _I am not a werewolf! My father was not a werewolf!_

Dracula laughed his soft, amused laugh. "You have spent your entire life trying to deny what you are, boy, but it is stamped on your features. The bloodlust is in your eyes- the wolf within you calls to me."

"I am not a wolf!" Ron growled, slamming his hand down on the table with such force that the oaken wood cracked.

Adam- Frankenstein's Monster- grunted. Elizabeth Franklin looked at him as though he were a specimen under her microscope. "If he is a werewolf, Count, why isn't he changing?"

Dracula smiled and spoke softly to Elsa. "Bring it."

The woman nodded and left.

Dracula turned back to Elizabeth Franklin. "It is in his blood, but it has not yet been brought out fully. Without intervention, Ronald Talbot would simply follow the course of his father- an eventual descent into madness and murder. But his other half- his animal half- would remain forever submerged.

"I shall change that tonight."

"Vonnie," Ron growled, ignoring the Count and the doctor's exchange. "You betrayed me. Why?"

"I had to, Ron." She looked down. "I am my father's daughter." And when she looked up, her eyes were red as blood and two ivory white fangs jutted from her mouth.

"Oh swell," Ron grunted. "I had to go and date Dracula's Daughter."

At that moment, Elsa returned with a silver tray. On the tray was a rather old fashioned hypodermic needle- a hypodermic filled with blood.

Vonnie looked at the hypo and hissed. Eagerly, she reached for the vial.

"Veronica, no!" Dracula snapped. He glared down at her. "You know what that blood is- and what it is for. You cannot have it- it would do you no good to drink it!"

Vonnie looked at sire, and hissed. Then she settled back down into her chair.

"Now, Mr. Talbot, we shall-" Dracula paused. "The boy. Where is he? Where did he go?"

Elizabeth Franklin . . . rather, _Frankenstein, _smiled at her host. "He left, my dear Count. He left while you were disciplining your offspring."

"You didn't stop him?"

Frankenstein smiled again. "I am a scientist, Count. This scheme is yours. Why should I help you?"

"Because I have a great deal to offer you," Dracula replied, moving closer to her.

Adam growled a warning and rose to stand at the side of his maker's descendant. He glared down at the vampire lord.

"Do not annoy me too much, old friend," Dracula said, glancing briefly into the cavernous eyes of his sometimes ally. "You are still a stripling to one who has seen five centuries come and go."

Adam simply stared at him.

"What exactly are you offering me, Count?" Elizabeth Frankenstein asked him. "It is good to know that the Bride- Elsa- lives. I could learn much from her-"

"I have more to offer than Elsa," the Count said. "I have your ancestor's original notes. The complete set."

Elizabeth Frankenstein paused. She said nothing.

"For all your work on our mutual friend here, neither you or any of your family have been able to duplicate Henry Frankenstein's work. None of you have been able to bring life to the dead, have you?"

"No," Frankenstein admitted. "We have not."

"Well, I have his journals, his notes. I have the formula for the elixir vitae1 that enabled him to bring life to dead tissue. Serve me in these things I ask of you and you will have them."

"Adam," Frankenstein said. "Fetch the boy."

Adam stared at her for a long moment.

"Adam," Frankenstein said, a trace of anger in her voice, "go!"

With something like a snarl, Adam turned and walked out of the dining hall.

"You have him well trained," Dracula commented.

Elsa- who still stood with the silver tray- looked at her lord. Her beautiful face was as expressionless as marble.

Dracula nodded and waved a hand. "Go then, Elsa. Make sure that our large friend brings Mr. Talbot back . . .alive."

Else nodded and carefully sat the tray down on the table. She turned and swiftly walked out of the hall.

"Father," Vonnie said softly. "May I go after him? Please?"

Dracula looked at his daughter. After five hundred years, he had more offspring than he could readily count- as vampires reckon these things- and he did not know Vonnie as well as he did the others. Still, she was _his_ daughter. "Very well. But remember- do not drink his blood! The blood of a werewolf- or even their offspring- is poison to us!"

Vonnie nodded and stood up. She held up her arms. She seemed to turn into a shadow- a shadow that shrank in on itself to become a small black bat.

With a piercing screech, the bat flew out of the room.

Elizabeth Frankenstein watched the she-bat fly away. Her smooth face revealed nothing of her thoughts. _So vampires cannot drink the blood of werewolves. That's good to know._

"She seems quite taken with your young werewolf-to-be," she commented to the vampire lord. "Do you trust her?"

"Of course I trust her!" Dracula snorted. He bent down to the tray and picked up the hypo. "She is Dracula's Daughter. She will do as I command. Ronald Talbot will be brought back to me." He held the hypo up to the light. "And he _will_ fulfill his destiny."

"And then?" Frankenstein asked.

"And then I will have my revenge upon the entire world!" Dracula threw back his head and laughed.

1 water of life


	5. Chapter 5

He ran for the front door. If he could just get out of this damned nightmare castle, he'd be free. He'd use the speedboat to get the hell off Terror Island. He'd be safe-

_I am not a werewolf!_

He made it to the doors and yanked on the handles-

Locked!

Ron Talbot growled again as he searched for a latch- none. The lock required a key- a key that he didn't have. The doors were iron- huge and heavy. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to break them down, but maybe he could break the lock.

His searching eyes spotted two suits of plate armor on either side of the door. One held a sword, point down. Attached to the belt of the other was a heavy black mace-

Ron grabbed the mace. Its weight felt good and reassuring in his hands. He raised it to strike the door.

"Ron, don't."

He turned and saw Veronica Winters standing behind him. She was still wearing her glasses and the same faded jeans and T-shirt she had worn on the dock. She still looked utterly normal, but he knew that was a lie now. He knew her for what she was:

"Dracula's Daughter," he murmured.

"Yes," Vonnie (_No! I will never call her that again!_) said. "I'm sorry, Ron. There was no way I could tell you. I had to do as Father bid. I had no other choice."

"Is that why you befriended me?" Ron asked her softly, hefting the mace in his hands. "To lure me here? So Daddy Drac could play Mad Doctor?"

"Yes," she admitted. "But I like you, Ron. And if you do what Father wants, you'll live forever. Like me."

"I don't want to be like you! I want to stay normal!"

Veronica shook her head. "Ron, you have never been normal. You will never be normal. You are your father's son- as he was his father's. The taint of the Wolf is upon you. Sooner or later you will kill. It's your destiny!"

"No!" Ron cried, and he lashed out at her with his mace.

Veronica caught his wrist effortlessly. "I can't make you one of us, Ron. Not even Father could do that. Your blood prevents that. The only way you can be with me forever is to become what Father wants you to be."

She threw him halfway down the hall.

"You _will _become what Father wants you to be."

Ron rolled to his feet. "I will never be what your father wants me to be, Veronica! I will be free!"

A huge hand clamped itself on his shoulder and yanked him to his feet.

"No," another female voice said, "you will never be free."

Elsa. The Bride of Frankenstein looked at him with something like pity in her dead eyes. She glanced over Ron's shoulder to the giant who held him. "Don't hurt him. The Master wants him alive."

Adam grunted a reply.

"The first time we met, you were the one who could talk," Elsa said softly. "And now you are mute. Do you remember our meeting?"

Adam said nothing.

Ron was still holding onto the mace. He had not dropped it. He was barely aware of their words. He was slipping into the same sort of half-trance he always wound up in when he got into a fight. Before, he would be nervous, angry- afraid- but once the trance came upon him, he thought of nothing but doing what damage he could to his opponent.

He had been ten years old the first time he had felt it: a pudgy, shy kid who was an easy target for the class bully. For months Freddy Keller had picked on him. Brutalized him. Shoved his face in the snow in winter and in the dirt in the spring. Hit him. Punched him. Kicked him.

And then it happened. The calm came over him. The predator's calm.

He had thrown himself at Freddy Keller. He had knocked the bigger boy down and begun punching him. Slamming his head into the ground. And all the while his face had been calm and tranquil.

It had taken three adult teachers to pry him off Freddy Keller- who never bothered anyone again.

And at fourteen, there had been the dog . . . he'd strangled it with his own bare hands. And all the while- while the dog had been trying to get at his throat- he had been calm.

That same calm served him now. Gripping the mace carefully, he swung it with all the force he could muster- at Adam's knee.

There was a bone-crunching impact, and the giant howled in pain as he dropped Ron Talbot.

Ron rolled to his feet and slammed the mace into the giant's knee again- this time at the back of it.

The giant screamed again as he fell.

Ron rolled to his feet and raised the mace up with both hands. _I'll bash in his skull!_

"No!" Elsa cried. She yanked the mace from Ron's hands and raised it above her head.

"Don't hit him!" Veronica cried. "The Master wants him alive!"

Elsa paused, and then she threw Ron over to Dracula's Daughter. "Hold him, then. Don't let him escape." She turned to Adam. She held out her hand. "Let me help you up."

Frankenstein's Monster paused for a moment, then took her hand.

Effortlessly, the Bride yanked him to his feet. "Lean on me," she said. "I will help you."

"Isn't love grand?" Veronica whispered into Ron's ear. "Soon you'll love me, Ron. Soon you'll understand why I had to do this. You'll see. Father will _make_ you see."

"If you knew anything about love, Veronica," Ron said, struggling in the vampire's iron grip, "then you wouldn't do this to me."

"You'll understand when Father's through with you, Ron," the vampire said, her fangs brushing lightly against Ron's throat. "You'll see."

They followed the monsters back to the main hall.


	6. Chapter 6

"He didn't get very far," Elizabeth Frankenstein observed as the struggling Ron Talbot was brought back to the main hall.

"But he did well," Count Dracula observed. "Look- even as a man he was able to injure my old friend there. Quite an impressive achievement for one man."

Adam grunted at Dracula as he limped over to the side of Elizabeth Frankenstein. He winced as she knelt down and began examining his leg. Otherwise, he was silent.

"I can repair this," Dr. Frankenstein said finally, looking up, "but I will need the proper facilities to do so."

"I was going to suggest that we adjourn to my laboratory anyway," the Count replied. "It would be wise to take the proper precautions before we introduce Mr. Talbot to his full heritage. Veronica, please keep a strong grip on your young gentleman. I have no doubt that he will bolt like a rabbit if given the chance."

Ron growled at him. He struggled futilely in Veronica's grip, but it was hopeless. She held him as easily as though he were a petulant child.

The Count walked over to a side wall and yanked on a torch fixture. With a groan, that portion of the wall swiveled on its side to present a hidden passageway. "Enter freely and of your own will," the Count intoned.

Adam growled. Elsa hissed back at him.

"Help your large counterpart down the stairs, Elsa," the Count ordered. "I don't want the big dolt to fall down on any of us."

Elsa nodded wordlessly and stepped beside the giant. Adam looked down at her with eyes as dead as his own.

"Come, Adam," Elizabeth Frankenstein said, laying a possessive hand on the giant's free arm. "I won't permit any harm to come to you. You know that."

Elsa looked at her again and spoke once more. "You're a Frankenstein. You can't help but do harm to all that live."

Elizabeth Frankenstein looked at her coolly- perhaps even coldly. "There are those who say that- those who would have preferred that you and Adam never existed."

Elsa simply shrugged.

"You are wasting my time," the Count snarled. "We have much to do before dawn comes. Elsa, bring him. Veronica, do as I told you: hold Mr. Talbot."

"I will, Father," Dracula's Daughter promised. "Ron will not escape me."

Ron glared at them all, too angry to say a word. There was, however, a promise of violence in his eyes.

Much to Ron's surprise, the passageway led up, instead of down. It wasn't too long before they found themselves in a huge laboratory that covered the entire upper floor of the castle. Huge banks of generators lined the walls while countless other devices hummed and crackled with electricity. A heavy wooden platform was attached to strong, thick chains that were hooked up to an elaborate pulley system: clearly they were designed to pull the platform up through the giant skylight through which shone the full moon.

Elizabeth Frankenstein looked at the array of equipment around her. "Antique, but adequate."

The Count smiled. "Much of this equipment comes from the tower where I found Elsa. It was designed and built by the mind and hand of Henry Frankenstein."

"It will do. Adam, lay down on that table."

Adam looked at her.

"Please, Adam. It's the only way I can help you."

Reluctantly, the giant did as he was told. Elizabeth Frankenstein strapped him down. "I need you to be still during the process."

"Veronica," the Count said, "you can place Mr. Talbot on the other table. Elsa, help bind him securely. I wouldn't want our young friend to become too frolicsome once we give him the injection."

Ron struggled, but the supernatural strength of the two women was more than his match. He glared at the two of them as they securely bound him with thick leather straps.

Veronica, still sporting her fangs, gave him a peck on the cheek. "You'll understand once it's all over, Ron."

The Count sighed.

Elizabeth Frankenstein carefully bent over the giant Adam and began working on his neck. Carefully folding back what looked like a piece of flesh-colored plastic, she revealed a miniature bolt on either side of his neck.

"I had wondered what had happened to the bolts," the Count said, peering over her shoulder. "I have Elsa wear her hair down in order to conceal hers."

"Even after all this time I didn't know enough about Adam's design to discard them," Elizabeth Frankenstein replied. "The best I could do was miniaturize them. If someone would be so kind as to give me the cables?"

Wordlessly, Elsa handed the good doctor a pair of heavily insulated cables. They ended in surprisingly delicate small clamps. Elizabeth Frankenstein attached those clamps to the small bolts on Adam's neck.

She walked over to the generator. "This is a fairly minor wound compared to some of the others Adam has experienced over the years. 10,000 volts should be more than sufficient."

She threw the switch.

The lights began to flicker. The humming of the electrical equipment became more intense.

Adam grunted.

Dracula watched with a gleam in his eyes. "Fascinating."

"The chemical compound that my ancestor Henry Frankenstein discovered is part of Adam's cells now. It sustains his life under circumstances that would be lethal to any mortal creature. It also greatly increases his ability to regenerate from an injury- especially when exposed to electricity." Elizabeth Frankenstein's dark eyes gleamed with excitement . . . but they remained somehow cold and not much warmer than the eyes of Elsa and Adam.

For a full minute, Elizabeth Frankenstein poured thousands of volts of electricity into the body of the creature called Frankenstein's Monster. Finally, she flipped the switch into an off position. "How do you feel, Adam?"

For answer, Adam grunted once more. He balled his giant hands into fists . . . and tore free of the straps that bound him. He rose awkwardly to his feet.

Growling, he looked down at Ron Talbot and took a step forward.

_Does he want to help me- or hurt me?_ Ron wondered. The giant's eyes were unreadable, but he sensed no malice in them.

"Adam, no!" Elizabeth Frankenstein commanded.

Elsa stepped between the giant and Ron. "No," she echoed.

"I still have need of the young Mr. Talbot, old friend," the Count said. "But I promise you, when I am done with him you may have him. You have the word of Dracula."

Adam looked at the vampire lord.

"Father, no!" Veronica protested. "Ron is mine!"

"Daughter, you and young Mr. Talbot are mine to do with as I see fit!"

"Let me loose and say that, Fangs," Ron said fiercely.

"You have courage, boy," Dracula said, looking at him. "But you are beginning to annoy me. Doctor Frankenstein, it is time. Give him the injection. It is time for Ronald Talbot to become the new Wolf Man."

"As you say, Count," Elizabeth Frankenstein said as she prepared the syringe she had brought with her. She pushed the plunger, and some of the blood spilled out of the needle. She looked at Ron Talbot. "This is going to hurt . . . a lot."

She stabbed his neck with the needle and pushed the plunger down.

And Ronald Talbot screamed like the damned thing he had just become . . .


	7. Chapter 7

_Even a man who's pure at heart_

_And says his prayers by night,_

_May become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms_

_And the autumn moon is bright__1_

The words came unbidden to him as though they were encoded in his DNA. Ronald Talbot did not know when- if ever- he heard those lines, but he knew them. He knew them, and he knew what they meant for him.

He screamed again, as his skin seemed to itch as though it were trying to tear itself off him. He shuddered as felt the bones of his face seem to soften, elongate, _change_. He moaned as he felt his canines thrust themselves out of his gums as wicked ivory fangs.

Count Dracula watched with ghoulish fascination as the offspring of his most hated enemy twisted and writhed on the table. His eyes were an eerie red as though they were backlit with red blood. "Oh, yes. It begins."

"I'll get you for this!" Ron screamed at the vampire lord. "You'll pay for this! I swear to God you'll pay!"

The Count winced. "Please don't use that language in my presence, Young Talbot. I find it . . . offensive."

"Go . . . to . . . hell!"

The vampire smiled. "In the words of your generation, Mr. Talbot: been there. Done that."

"He's hurting, Father!" Veronica said. "You didn't tell me that it would hurt him!"

"I would have thought it would be obvious, my daughter."

"Fascinating," Elizabeth Frankenstein said as she came closer to the table.

Ron Talbot snarled at her and struggled ferociously to bite her with his growing fangs.

"Be careful, Doctor," Dracula warned her. "Our young friend will be most hungry when the transformation is complete. I didn't bring you this far for you to turn into an entree."

Ron's skin darkened at the same time as thousands of wiry gray hairs forced themselves out of his skin. His face seemed to shimmer and blur like a mirage as the nose flattened and the jaws extended slightly. His ears seemed to slide up to the top of his head even as they took on a distinctively lupine appearance. His fingernails darkened and began to grow points even as his eyes turned as yellow as the autumn moon . . .

"His features are even more lupine than Lawrence Talbot's," the Count commented. "I didn't expect that."

With a growl, the Werewolf that had been Ronald Talbot flexed his mighty arms.

The straps that bound him snapped like twine.

Reaching down in a distinctively human gesture, the Werewolf tore the straps off that bound his now bare feet. He jumped lightly to his feet and tore off the tattered shirt that covered a chest that had grown much more massive.

He raised his talons to the sky . . . and looked at them.

The Werewolf paused. He looked at his fur-covered hands as though seeing them for the first time. Then he touched his face, felt his slight snout, the jutting fangs that protruded from his black lips.

Then he turned his yellow eyes back up the sky . . . to the moon.

And for the first time, the wolf-thing that had been Ronald Talbot howled.

And down belong in a dark and dank dungeon, the former Larry Talbot, the original Wolf Man, paused in the devouring of his meal. His ears pricked up and he listened intently.

The howling came again.

The Wolf Man did not have a mind, as a human would have understood the term. A creature of instinct, it lived by rage and hunger and . . . loneliness. It felt more than thought, and it was not capable of complex thought.

Still, if the feeling that came upon the Wolf Man could have been translated into something like human thought, it would have been understood:

_My kind. My kin._

Throwing back his head, the Wolf Man opened his bloody jaws and howled.

Then, his meal forgotten, the Wolf Man launched himself once more at the heavy dungeon door.

High above him, the Werewolf that had been Ron Talbot heard that cry.

Elizabeth Frankenstein looked at the Count. "You have another one?"

"Indeed," the Count replied. "I have the original! Larry Talbot himself! Why else do you think he reacted so potently to the blood? It was his grandfather's."

"Ron, do you understand now?" Veronica asked, approaching the Werewolf cautiously. "Now we can be together forever. You'll live forever . . . just as I do. I did it for you, Ron. I did it for us."

The Werewolf looked at her for a moment. His taloned hand reached out to gently touch her cheek . . . and then cruelly slashed it. "I didn't ask you for this!"

"He spoke!" Elizabeth Frankenstein cried. "He spoke!"

"Indeed!" the Count replied, seemingly unperturbed by the attack on his daughter. "It appears that Young Talbot is quite a different breed of wolf than his grandfather."

The Werewolf grabbed Dracula's Daughter and threw her halfway across the room. "I'll kill you!" he growled, launching himself at Dracula.

With impossible speed, Elsa thrust herself between her master and the attacking Werewolf. Catching one of his outstretched arms, she pivoted and threw him against one of the huge generators that stood against the walls of the room.

The Werewolf smashed into it with enough force to break the metal shell of the device open like an eggshell. He hung against the wall of the machine like a pinned moth as electricity arched and crackled around his form.

"Stop it!" the Count cried. "I want him alive!"

The giant that had once been known simply as Frankenstein's Monster lumbered over to the twitching Werewolf and seized one furry shoulder. With no sign of exertion on his jaundiced face, Adam tore the Werewolf off the generator and threw him down to the floor.

"Father!" Veronica hissed, holding a hand up to her bloody cheek. "He hurt me!"

Her eyes were as red as blood.

"Consider it an object lesson, my daughter. He could have just as easily torn off your head. You really shouldn't expect to mix with his kind. They're useful as servants, but nothing more. Elsa, how is he?"

Elsa knelt beside the Werewolf. The air was filled with the stench of singed fur. "He's-"

"Mad as hell!"

The Werewolf grabbed her arm. With an animalistic growl, he yanked-

And ripped it free of the socket.

Elsa cried out and stood up. She hissed at the Werewolf like an angry snake, but there was no blood. Electric sparks dropped out of the empty sleeve onto the floor.

Her hand- the severed one that the Werewolf held in his own- tried desperately to grab the wrist of the hand that held it.

The Werewolf stared at the limb in shock and then threw it at Elsa.

Adam, growling in rage, tore one of the laboratory tables off its base. Holding it before him like a crude battering ram, he lunged at the Werewolf.

The Werewolf did not try to dodge the table though he easily could have. Instead he caught the free end of the table and shoved back.

The unexpected resistance knocked the larger creature off his feet.

"He almost fights like a man," Elizabeth Frankenstein commented to the Count. "From the accounts I've read of Larry Talbot he was much more feral than Ronald."

"Indeed he was," Dracula commented. "Always leaping down and trying to rip out throats- I applaud the intentions, but his execution was always a little clumsy. I see a great deal of possibility in Young Talbot though. He is everything I had hoped he would be . . . and more."

"You hurt me!" Veronica cried, launching herself at the Werewolf. Her face had turned into something distinctly inhuman: oversized fangs, furry features, and two bat-like ears. Long leather membranes attached to now-furry arms as she struggled to claw the eyes out of her former lover. "You'll pay for that!"

"Veronica, stand back!" Dracula ordered.

"This is your fault!" the Werewolf cried as he seized the clawed hands of the bat-woman. "You did this to me!"

Snarling, the two struggled against each other. Their fangs snapped at each other's throats.

"Stand back, Veronica!" Dracula hissed. "Now!"

But it was too late for the Daughter of Dracula.

The Werewolf lashed out with one of his feet and knocked the bat-woman off balance. With a burst of ferocious strength, he lifted her off her feet. Yellow eyes gleaming, he cast his gaze upon the laboratory.

Dracula realized his intent the moment the Werewolf found what he had been looking for. "No!" he cried.

With a savage howl of triumph, the Werewolf cast the struggling bat-woman down onto the broken base of the laboratory table . . . the _wooden_ base.

There was a sickening sound as the jagged wooden base tore through her flesh. The bat-woman howled in pain and twitched feebly. Turning her monstrous face towards the Werewolf, she said, "I thought you loved me."

Her very flesh seemed to turn into smoke. When it cleared, only a deformed skeleton remained where she had been.

"No," Dracula whispered.

The Werewolf's yellow eyes gleamed . . . with something other than triumph in them. Pointing a claw at the vampire lord, he said, "You're next, Dracula!"

The Count looked at him, his face streaked with blood tears. "Come ahead and die then, boy!"

The wooden laboratory table smashed into the Werewolf. He was knocked hard against the wall.

Growling, Adam reached down and took hold of his awkward weapon once more. He glared at the Werewolf.

The Werewolf rose back to his feet and growled at the giant. He looked back at the lord of the vampires: Dracula had transformed into a bat-like thing much as his daughter had done . . . only much larger and more powerful.

Behind them, Elizabeth Frankenstein was working on Elsa. She was watching the tableau before her at the same instant. Her eyes gleamed with amusement.

The Werewolf felt that he was a match for either Frankenstein's Monster or Dracula alone . . . but he didn't know if he could take on both of them alone. And with Frankenstein's Bride ready to re-enter the fight at any moment . . .

He didn't know if it was the human or the animal part of him that decided on flight first, but his powerful legs propelled him into the air. He latched onto the chain that lifted the platform through the skylight. Without a backward glance, he pulled himself up the chain and broke through the skylight.

Howling, he leaped off the roof.

The bat-thing that had been Dracula protected his eyes with a great black leather wing. "Let him go," he told Adam. "There are worse things outside my castle than the Werewolf. If he survives the night, we will find him in the morning."

Far below them, the Wolf Man shattered the door of his dungeon.

Howling with joy over his freedom, the thing that had been Larry Talbot ran up the stairs to the exit . . . and freedom.


	8. Chapter 8

Inside the Werewolf, Ron Talbot was riding the whirlwind.

Sights, sounds, and smells- especially smells- were singing to him. He knew and felt things he had never thought possible before. His limbs were filled with boundless energy. He had never felt so alive.

The human part of him regretted the death of Veronica Winters, but it was not a major concern to him. His anguish over his lost humanity was of no more moment than stubbing his toe. All that he had known or believed about right and wrong had faded into the haziness of a dream.

Only _now _mattered. His strength. His speed. His boundless hunger and bloodlust. The urge to kill- and feast- burned in him so deeply that it hurt.

And yet for all that, he was _still_ Ron Talbot. He knew what he was, and knew what he had been. He knew that when his humanity returned he would feel shame and guilt and horror over what he had done . . . what he would do tonight.

But that would come later. The human Ron Talbot would feel those things. The Werewolf wanted only to run, to hunt . . . to kill.

Howling in exultation, he ran.

The Wolf Man escaped from the castle with little difficulty. The huge black iron doors that had been the bane of Ron Talbot's escape attempt were no match for his supernatural strength. Smashing through the doors, he quickly ran outside and easily detected the spoor of his grandson.

The Wolf Man had fed well that night. The urge to kill was not upon him. It was a different need that drove him. Unlike Ron Talbot, precious little of Lawrence Talbot's human mind remained in the brain of the Wolf Man. Larry Talbot remembered something of his actions when he returned to human form, but only in a vague, hazy sort of way. The Wolf Man was a creature of instinct and action, not thought or memory.

But even a creature of instinct can recognize the bonds of kinship. On this first night of his descendant's transformation, the Wolf Man felt an overwhelming urge to find his kin. And like the creature of emotion that he was, he did not try to understand his desire; he simply acted upon it.

With the quiet skill of an experienced predator, he silently hunted under the predator's moon . . .

Elizabeth Frankenstein shut off the power to the remaining generators of the lab and looked at the Bride of Frankenstein. "How does your arm feel?"

Elsa flexed her limb and nodded. "Adequate."

"Tell the doctor exactly how you feel, Elsa," Dracula said. "I cannot afford to have you at anything less than full strength." He was back in human form and still staring at the skeleton that had been Veronica Winters. "If you are not fully healed, tell her."

"I am fine," Elsa replied. "Do you want me to . . . take care of her?"

The Count turned his eyes away from the grisly scene. "Later. We need to make sure that Lawrence is still in his cell. I have not heard him howling since Ronald left. We need to know if we face one enemy or two."

Elsa nodded and headed for the door.

"Go with her, Adam," Elizabeth Frankenstein commanded. "It will take the two of you to subdue an angry Wolf Man."

The giant nodded and followed the sleek beauty that had been designed to be his mate.

"I have some questions, Count," Elizabeth stated. "Do you have time to answer them?"

The Count nodded. "We have time."

"First, why don't you just remove Veronica off that post? Won't she return to life if the stake is removed from her heart?"

"No." The Lord of Vampires shook his head. "Only the old- and strong- among us can rise from the dead so easily. Veronica was too young. She will remain dead." He sighed. "A pity, really. She had potential."

Elizabeth Frankenstein chose not to comment on the Count's evident grief. She was wise enough to realize that the Count prided himself on his stoicism- and that the surest way to arouse his wrath would be to suggest he had feelings. It would do her no good to do that- Dracula looked human, but he was every bit as monstrous as the Werewolf that had torn the arm off Elsa. "I still do not understand why you wanted to make Ronald Talbot into a werewolf. And what did you mean 'There are worse things outside my castle than the Werewolf'?"

The Count smiled. "I wished to make Young Talbot into a Werewolf for several reasons, Doctor Frankenstein. First, I wished to avenge myself upon his grandfather. Lawrence Talbot foiled more than one of my plans over the decades- what better revenge could I have on him than to steal the humanity from his grandson? I even have hopes of pitting them against each other so that Lawrence would either finally die or be forced to live with the knowledge that he himself destroyed his family line.

"But Dracula always has more than revenge on his mind. You saw the ferocity and cunning with which Young Talbot fought. Even before his transformation he was able to overcome your ancestor's Monster. If I could enlist him in my service, an immortal Werewolf would make a fine bodyguard."

Elizabeth Frankenstein nodded. "I see. And why did you want to bring me to your island?"

"Elsa has functioned well as my second in command. Her strength is more than human, and she shows no sign of aging. She is the most loyal follower I have ever had- and she can do what even a werewolf cannot: protect me by day." Dracula leaned forward. "With an army of men and women such as her, I could-"

"Conquer the world?"

The Count laughed. "I am not Alexander, my dear doctor. I have no desire to try to conquer the world by force of arms- I will continue with what I have been doing for the last 100 years: work behind the scenes. Let others call themselves, president, king, emperor- as long as the power is mine, I will have no need of the titles.

"But there will always be those who will discover who and what I am. With my own private army of monsters- monsters who can fight by _day_ as well as night- I will be able to strike against my enemies whenever I have need.

"With such an army- with a bodyguard like Young Talbot- I would be invincible. And it would only be a matter of time before those in power work for me. If necessary, I will have their brains replaced with those of my loyal followers-

"You will do this for me, Doctor Frankenstein. You will build me my army. You will help me subvert my enemies."

"Why should I do that?" Elizabeth Frankenstein asked.

The Count laughed slowly and softly. "Because you are a Frankenstein," he said softly. "I have known your family a long time, my dear. I know how Henry preyed upon the charnel houses, the gallows, and robbed graves and tombs for the parts to complete his work. I know how your grandfather Wolf worked for the Nazis in a futile attempt to recreate his great-grandfather's work. I know of the Frankenstein hunger to overcome death and to master the forces of life.

"Serve me, and I will ensure that you have all the materials you need for your work. I am a very powerful man, Doctor Frankenstein. Anything you need to pursue your work I will provide you- so long as you serve me."

Elizabeth Frankenstein smiled. It was a cold smile, completely devoid of warmth or humanity. Indeed, in that moment she seemed less human than the vampire. "In that case, I accept."

"Good," the Count said. "Very good. Do you have any other questions?"

"What lurks beyond your castle?" Elizabeth Frankenstein was not one to turn away from a question- it was that fatal flaw that had been the death of more than one of her ancestors, but Elizabeth was a true Frankenstein. She would have her answer, no matter the cost.

"That is a long story," the Count said. "I found them in Louisiana as I searched for some sign of your ancestor's Monster. I had heard stories of the carnage and bloodshed they wrought, and thought that somehow it was the Monster . . . but it was not. It was something else . . . the work of yet another scientist."

"Go on," Elizabeth murmured.

"Have you ever heard of a Doctor Mark Sinclair and a private clinic called the Cypresses? It was in Bayou Landing, Louisiana in the late 1950s."

Elizabeth Frankenstein frowned. "Actually, yes. I believe I found some notes in my father's records about his correspondences with a Dr. Sinclair regarding cellular regeneration. Dr. Sinclair was most interested in my ancestor's work."

"As well he should have been," Dracula replied. "The late Dr. Sinclair was trying to find a way to cause human beings to regenerate lost or damaged tissue or limbs. He used a hydrocortisone extract from alligators to perform this. And he succeeded . . . up to a point."

"I take it there were . . . side effects?"

"You might say that," the Count laughed. "You might say that."

At that moment, Elsa and Adam returned. The giant glanced over at Elizabeth Frankenstein and frowned. It was plain to see that he did not care for her proximity to the Vampire Lord.

"Well?" the Count asked.

"He is gone," Elsa replied softly.

"Out of his cell?"

"Out of the castle."

The Count frowned. "And yet . . . he has not come to attack us yet. Strange. Lawrence was always predictable- why did he leave?"

"Perhaps he's seeking Ronald," Elizabeth Frankenstein said.

"Indeed," the Count replied. "I wonder- if they will form a pack- or destroy each other?"

"There is no way to tell," the doctor replied.

"We will be ready for them," the Count replied. "Elsa, break out the silver daggers that I had prepared in advance. You and your giant suitor here will guard my tomb as I rest tomorrow."

"We will not look for them?" Elsa asked.

"Lawrence Talbot will not leave this island while I live," the Count replied. "He has sworn himself to my destruction. He is from an age that still believed in honor. If he survives his meeting with Ronald, he will come against me. This I know."

"And Ronald? If he should be the victor?"

"I made Ronald Talbot into a monster. His generation knows how to hate. If he lives, he will seek vengeance against me- and he will come."

"And if they both live?"

The Count smiled a bloody smile. "If they do not kill each other, they will have to survive until the dawn- and the day that will come after that. If they do not kill each other as werewolves, they must yet overcome the Alligator Men before they come against me."

"And if they do that?" Elizabeth Frankenstein asked. "If they join together- and survive your Alligator Men?"

"Then they will have proven themselves worthy to serve me," replied the Lord of the Vampires. "And serve they will- or they will die by my hand . . ."


	9. Chapter 9

Terror Island was not particularly large- about four miles long and no more than three at its widest point. Fully half of it seemed to be swamp- a hot, fetid swamp that smelled both of growth and decay, life and death. Pits of quicksand- which even the Werewolf had to avoid- dotted the landscape. It was an unwholesome place.

The Werewolf that had been Ronald Talbot cautiously moved through the swamp, searching . . . for what even _he _didn't know. He knew that a human would have returned to the speed boat or sought some other means of escape, but the wolf within him would not permit that. A man would have sought survival over everything- the Werewolf needed to kill even more than it needed to live.

But Dracula and the others were safe in the castle. He could not hope to take them now- not while they on their guard. Even the human doctor was too dangerous to attack without the element of surprise. No, he had to find other, safer prey . . . at least for the moment.

But Terror Island seemed to be devoid of life. There were sheds and Quonset huts, garages and shacks, but none of them had been inhabited recently. The scent of man- true man- was faded and dull wherever the Werewolf sought it.

Occasionally, though, that fading scent would be extremely vivid- hot with remembered terror and fear. The Werewolf recognized that smell- and knew what had caused it:

Violent death.

Something stalked Terror Island. Some kind of predator that was as unnatural in its way as a werewolf or vampire. The further the Werewolf got from the Castle, the stronger the stench of this other predator became- it was a strange smell, a scent that bewildered his supernatural senses.

It was human- and not.

The Werewolf would have preferred prey to a fellow predator. Prey was easier, tastier. The tang of fear was so much easier to take from a creature that did not hunt the night. On the other hand, bringing fear to a creature that did not normally know fear had its own rewards . . .

And he had no choice.

The Werewolf wanted to kill- _had_ to kill. Lacking more suitable prey, it had to find the things that guarded Dracula's Castle.

And so the Werewolf traveled deeper into the swamp . . .

And behind him, silent as a shadow, yellow eyes ablaze, came the Wolfman . . .

Forty years ago, Mark Sinclair- like Henry Frankenstein before him- had played God. Using radiation and a hydrocortisone extract derived from Louisiana alligators, Sinclair had worked modern miracles. Burnt flesh, shattered or lost limbs had been repaired or restored. People who had been more dead than alive had been reborn, restored to health and vigor. Sinclair had thought himself a benefactor to mankind, a modern day Prometheus.

Unfortunately, he had forgotten Prometheus' fate.

Sinclair's treatment worked . . . but there were side effects. Gradually, his patients began to acquire the reptilian characteristics of the alligator: scaly skin, inhuman strength and appetites. They became monsters.

Mark Sinclair had attempted to reverse the process. He had tried to find a cure . . . and he might even have done so if fate- and a cruel servant- had not led to the destruction of his clinic . . . and Sinclair. The lone human survivor of that tragedy had thought that all of the Alligator People had perished in the ensuing explosion, but she had been incorrect.

A few- a handful- had survived and made their way into the bayou. And because the urge to reproduce is strong even in monsters, they mated and had offspring. Monstrous, inhuman offspring.

In his quest to find the Frankenstein Monster, Dracula had traveled to the Bayou and found the Alligator People. While they lacked the intelligence necessary to serve him as an army, the Vampire Lord had quickly recognized their potential as guardians of his estate. As a test, he brought them to Terror Island . . . and allowed them to murder and devour his human servants.

Now they had the run of the estate save for the immediate environs of Dracula's Castle. Those who came to Dracula's Castle without his leave inevitably perished, serving as fodder for the monsters that dwelt on Terror Island.

The Castle was Dracula's. Terror Island belonged to . . . the Alligator People.

Until tonight.

The Werewolf halted at the edge of the swamp and stared at the brackish, bubbling water. His wolf-like ears seemed to rotate as he scanned the environment, searching for the prey that he knew awaited him. His jaws were open, and his great chest heaved.

There was a splash in the water in front of him, and a silent serpentine shadow rose on its hind legs to regard him.

Had Ronald Talbot been human, he would have found something almost comical about the creature that stood before him. It looked like something out of a bad horror movie. It was that absurd.

The creature was of average human height. Its forearms were shorter than a man's, but extremely well muscled. The legs were thick and powerful, as was the stubby tail, which served as a counter balance to the creature's upper section. The black-red eyes were perched on top of a reptilian head that boasted long, powerful jaws and teeth.

The thing that made the creature humorous . . . or tragic . . . were the tattered remains of clothing that remained on its lean form. Pinstriped trousers- ragged and torn- concealed the creature's loins while a rag of a white shirt and a rotted black tie were all that remained of a shirt.

The Werewolf growled.

The Alligator Man stared back at the wolf-man. Its great jaws slowly creaked open- and then the reptile-thing launched itself out of the water with one tremendous surge of power from those oversized legs.

The impact knocked the Werewolf off his feet and down onto the slippery mud. The Werewolf slid towards the water and would have fallen in if its powerful legs had not dug into the soft earth. "Die!" he howled.

Grabbing the Alligator Man's half-open jaws, the Werewolf tore the lower jaw from the reptile man's head.

And yet, even with that hideous wound, the Alligator Man still tore at the Werewolf's hide with its stubby claws.

Growling, the Werewolf scrambled to his feet and lifted the struggling Alligator Man over his head. Yellow eyes blazing like the moon above, he brought the other monster down on his knee.

The Alligator Man made a bubbling sound as its back snapped like tinder.

The Werewolf tossed him into the swamp.

_That was too easy,_ he thought.

As if on cue, another Alligator Man rose from the swamp . . . and then another . . . and a third . . .

The Werewolf did not wait for the Alligator People to attack him. Grabbing a stout tree branch, he ripped it from the black, deformed tree and hurled it at the foremost of the reptile people with all his strength.

The ungainly missile struck with such force that the Alligator Man was knocked off his feet. He bobbed to the surface and weakly clutched at the branch that pierced his chest. Blood pouring from his chest, he went still.

By this time, the other Alligator Men had made it to shore. One of them went straight for the Werewolf's throat while the second bent down and picked up a huge rock. Awkwardly with his too-short arms, the Alligator Man raised his weapon over his head.

Ignoring the threat of the rock wielding Alligator Man, the Werewolf rammed his fist down the throat of the reptile man that had tried to close with him.

The monster closed his powerful jaws on the arm of the Werewolf. Those jaws could have severed a man's arm at the shoulder. Black red eyes met moon yellow ones as the two monsters stared at each other.

And the human part of Ronald Talbot wondered, _Does he know what I am? Does he know what he is? Does he know that we were human once?_

But the Werewolf didn't care.

With a tremendous heave, he ripped the tongue out of the Alligator Man by its roots.

Leaving the reptile man to choke on his own blood, the Werewolf raised his arm in time to keep the other Alligator Man from braining him with the rock.

The rock was huge, and the Alligator Man- for all his comical lab coated appearance- was strong.

The rock shattered against the Werewolf's supernaturally powerful arm, but the man-wolf howled in pain as the arm fell limply to his side.

Seizing his advantage, the Alligator Man grabbed the throat of the Werewolf. With his face still devoid of expression that a human- or even a wolf-man- could read, the Alligator Man squeezed with all his strength as he attempted to the strangle the Werewolf.

The Werewolf smiled.

He thrust his left claw into the Alligator Man's belly. Still smiling, he raked his claw upwards.

The Alligator Man did not make a sound as his guts spilled out onto the hot, moist ground. He simply fell to his knees, and then onto his side.

The Werewolf looked eagerly about for another victim. He could sense other Alligator People nearby, but none of them arose to challenge him again.

The Werewolf raised his bloody claw into the air and howled in victory.

This time, he was answered.

Spinning about, the Werewolf saw two yellow eyes looking at him from the upper limbs of a tree.

A Wolfman crouched there. He wore a filthy, tattered white shirt, and dark trousers. His furry feet were bare. His fingers were tipped with black talons. The smell of dried blood was on his muzzle.

He growled at the Werewolf.

Wolfman looked at Werewolf. Grandfather looked at grandson. Monster gazed upon monster.

The swamp went quiet, as the world seemed to hold its breath.

The Werewolf growled back at the former Lawrence Talbot.

For an instant longer, there was silence.

Then the Wolfman leaped.


	10. Chapter 10

The Wolfman leaped- and the Werewolf jumped back so that his grandfather landed five feet in front of him instead of on him.

The Wolfman growled, but he didn't seem especially disappointed. Instead, half-crouching, he regarded the Werewolf once more.

The Wolfman was more human in appearance than the Werewolf that was his descendant. The erstwhile Lawrence Talbot had no muzzle to speak of, and his ears were almost human. The heavy brown fur that covered him was shorter than the gray hair that covered his descendant. His hands had sharp black talons, but they were not as claw-like as those of Ronald Talbot. Lawrence Talbot was still more man than wolf.

Physically, at least.

Yet if the older Talbot was more human than lupine in appearance, he seemed to have no mind to speak of. There was something indisputably feral about his movements- he moved with a kind of animalistic grace that his descendant lacked. His every gesture, every turn of his head, indicated that he listened to his senses in a way that no thinking animal ever could.

"Do you know who I am?" the Werewolf asked the Wolfman. His voice was harsh, inhuman, but it was understandable. That much of his humanity remained to him.

The Wolfman looked at him in surprise. Then he growled again- a question, this time.

The Werewolf slowly raised his damaged arm. Already it was healing, becoming whole again. He was slightly taller than the Wolfman, with a more defined build, but the other creature seemed possessed of a heavy power and agility that made him far more dangerous than he appeared. "Do you know _who_ you are?"

The Wolfman snapped his jaws. He seemed annoyed by the Werewolf's attempts at conversation. There was a low growl in his throat like the warning a dog gives just before it's about to bite.

The Werewolf felt his own temper begin to fray. The brief excitement of overcoming the Alligator Men was beginning to wear off, leaving him dissatisfied. The reptile men had been cold, sluggish things. Killing them had not satiated his desire for the hunt, to _kill_. The wolf part of him was starting to hunger for violence again.

And the human portion was angry as well. It was the Wolfman's blood- both literal and figurative- that had made him what he was. The Talbot heritage had driven his father to madness and suicide; it had left Ronald Talbot with a violent temper that led him to seek trouble and danger.

And the Wolfman's blood had triggered his transformation into a Werewolf. Nevermore could he consider himself to be human- and the creature before him was to blame.

"I know who you are," the Werewolf growled at the Wolfman- and he lashed out with his left claw.

Incredibly, the Wolfman ducked the blow and lashed out with his own, more human claws.

The Werewolf cried out and raised his right claw to his face, felt the hot blood on his face. He growled, low and deep, as he crouched down, bracing himself like a young wolf about to take on his pack's leader.

The Wolfman's jaws parted in something that might have been a smile. Snarling, he leapt forward . . .

Elsa regarded the giant figure that followed Elizabeth Frankenstein like a shadow as the scientist made repairs to the machinery of Dracula's lab. Frankenstein worked with an almost inhuman efficiency as she repaired what had been torn asunder in their battle with the Werewolf.

Dracula had left to attend to other matters, so his assistant was left alone with the monster she had been made for and the descendant of the one who had made her.

"Elsa," Doctor Frankenstein said, "some of this equipment has seen recent use."

"The Master has been trying to duplicate your ancestor's experiments," Elsa replied. "Even as recently as this evening. To date- other than reviving me- he has not been successful."

"What has he done with his . . . failures?"

Elsa gestured towards the floor. "The Wolfman proved very useful in that regard."

Doctor Frankenstein nodded. She looked at the equipment. "What was Henry Frankenstein like?"

Elsa pointed to Adam. "Hasn't _he_ told you?"

Elizabeth Frankenstein almost smiled. "Adam doesn't talk much. From my studies of him, I don't believe that he's physically unable to talk. He simply no longer wishes to communicate with us." She looked at him. "And after all that he's been through, I don't ask that of him."

"But you ask it of me."

"Yes."

Elsa closed her eyes and considered. "I don't recall much. Things happened so quickly. It was a matter of minutes from the time of my birth until the Monster- Adam- pulled the switch that triggered the destruction of the tower. I barely had time to realize that I was alive before the darkness came upon me.

"I remained in the wreckage of the tower for years- only coming back to consciousness when a particularly violent storm generated sufficient electricity to awaken me. Even then, I couldn't get free. I would have stayed that way forever . . . if the Master had not found me."

"Dracula."

"Dracula. He made me what I am. He had me educated. He clothed me. He made me into a thinking being. I owe him everything. And I will serve him for all time."

"Why?" Elizabeth Frankenstein asked.

"Because there would be no purpose to my existence if I didn't."

"It is good to have a purpose," the daughter of the House of Frankenstein replied.

"But you were asking about Henry Frankenstein. I do remember him. He was so different from the others-"

"The others?"

"Adam." She gestured. "And my other father- Dr. Praetorius."

"Praetorius," Elizabeth Frankenstein said with a nod. "I remember. He made your brain."

"Yes." Elsa closed her eyes. "There was such joy in Frankenstein's eyes when he beheld me. Then I thought it was because he was happy to see me- now I know that it was the sheer joy of creation. It was like a drug to him, being able to do what no other man has done- before or since." She looked at Elizabeth Frankenstein. "I see that in your eyes too, Elizabeth Frankenstein."

"Thank you."

"I did not say it was a compliment. Henry Frankenstein paid- with years of untold misery and unhappiness- for his life's work. You may yet do the same."

"Science does not progress without risk," Elizabeth Frankenstein said. "Without the potential for destruction, there can be no true creation." She lightly touched a lever. "Even as this machinery is capable of giving life, it can also bring death. This control moderates the forces that are necessary to bring life to dead tissue. But if it is moved too quickly- if the forces are not allowed to balance properly- it can blow this Castle to atoms."

"I know," Elsa said softly. "I remember."

"But to do what my ancestor had done, he needed to master such forces- because the goal was worth the risk. It is always worth the risk." And Elizabeth Frankenstein returned to her work.

Softly, Elsa said to the giant, "She is just like our father, Adam."

Adam said nothing. He simply returned to watching Doctor Frankenstein at work.

At first, the Wolfman's charge forced the Werewolf back. The older lycanthrope was heavier, and strong. He half-pushed the younger Werewolf into the waters of the swamp before the former Ronald Talbot was able to dig his claws into the soft mud of the swampland and counter the Wolfman's momentum.

Growling, the Werewolf snapped at his predecessor's face. His jaws were more pronounced, so he had a longer reach in that regard. Given a chance, he was quite capable of tearing out the throat of the Wolfman.

The Wolfman knew this, of course. With something like human cunning, he kicked the Werewolf's knee as he simultaneously broke lose of the youngster's grip.

The Werewolf went down, and the Wolfman was instantly upon him. The former Larry Talbot put his hands around the throat of his grandson and began to squeeze.

Darkness swam before the Werewolf's eyes. He felt the world fading away . . . and did the only thing he could.

He went mad.

Instead of trying to break the Wolfman's grip, the Werewolf instead raked his claws over the mashed in wolf-like face of his grandfather. His claws went in deep, making red furrows in the face of the Wolfman as he tore away fur and flesh and cut down to the bone.

The Wolfman howled in pain and covered his face. Seizing the moment, the Werewolf thrust his legs between them and used them to kick his attacker off. With a surge of supernatural strength, the erstwhile Ronald Talbot propelled his ancestor over ten feet into the air before the older man-wolf came crashing down.

And he came down hard. The soft mud gave way before him, but there was still the unmistakable cracking of bone as the Wolfman hit the ground.

And he had no respite. Before he could do much more than start to get up, the Werewolf was upon. Growling, the Werewolf bent down low and seized the thick furry throat of his grandfather with his powerful jaws. With a savage twist of his neck, he tore away half the throat of his ancestor.

The Wolfman twitched feebly as his life's blood gushed out of his neck, but still the Werewolf attacked. Again and again he savagely clawed the Wolfman's chest, tearing away inches of fur, flesh, and the soft organs that lay beneath.

Finally, it was over.

The Wolfman- his torso little more than raw meat- lay still and unresisting on the ground. His yellow eyes had turned dark and were as lifeless as the rest of him.

The Werewolf rose unsteadily to his feet. His jaws were bloody, and bits of brown fur and flesh clung to his claws. His yellow eyes were tinted with scarlet as he beheld the body of his victim.

The creature that had once been Ronald Talbot gazed upon his handiwork and smiled. Throwing back his head, he howled his triumph into the night sky.

The Wolfman was dead.


	11. Chapter 11

When the Werewolf that had been Ronald Talbot finished his victory cry, he turned to look once more upon the body of his victim.

But the Wolfman was gone. Bits of fur and flesh and a pool of blood were all that remained of his foe.

The Werewolf growled in surprise. Yellow eyes scanned the black water and the trees. Wait. Was that movement he saw in the trees?

Something heavy leapt out of the shadows and landed on his back. Something with yellow eyes and sharp white fangs.

Once more, the Wolfman lived.

The Werewolf struggled desperately, but this time the element of surprise was with his ancestor. The Wolfman hung onto his back, clinging tenaciously with supernatural strength while his human-like jaws distended themselves enough to allow him to clamp them on the throat of his descendant.

Fiercely the Werewolf struggled, but that very ferocity proved to be his undoing. The harder he struggled, the more oxygen he needed . . . and the Wolfman's vise-like grip on his throat prevented that.

Helpless, the Werewolf sank down into the mud. Darkness swam before his eyes and he whimpered softly, once, before the end . . .

Adam stood silently by as he watched Elizabeth Frankenstein pour over the delicate manuscripts and journals that were all that remained of his creator's legacy. From time to time, she would hold up one drawing or the other and compare it to Adam herself. "Amazing," she murmured. "Simply amazing."

"Your ancestor was a genius, my dear," Dracula replied as he moved into the laboratory. "Considering what he had to work with, it's astonishing that he did as well as he did in terms of the creation of our large friend here."

Elizabeth Frankenstein nodded. "And with today's techniques, I should be able to do even more. How soon can you get me research materials?"

She meant bodies, Adam knew. Fresh bodies to dismember and then to reform into a new life form. A creature like himself.

"Simply tell me your requirements, my dear doctor, and I'll make the arrangements," the Count told the last daughter of the House of Frankenstein. "I can have everything you need ready within a day or two at the most."

"Good," Elizabeth Frankenstein said. "Very good." She looked over at Adam. "Very soon, old friend, you won't be so alone. Before you know it, there will be an entire army of creatures like you."

Adam walked over to an antique mirror that was fastened to one wall of the laboratory. He glanced at the jaundiced face that looked back at him. His face.

He smashed the mirror with one giant fist.

Without looking back at the others, he walked out of the laboratory . . .

Morning.

"I'm alive," Ronald Talbot murmured hoarsely as he rubbed a hand against his throat. "It must have been a dream."

"That's what I said the first time I woke up."

Ron turned and saw a heavyset man looking down at him. He wore a tattered white shirt and torn dark trousers. He looked like he'd been through about a dozen different kinds of hell.

"Lawrence Talbot, I presume," Ron said as he rose into a sitting position.

"Yes," Lawrence said softly. His voice was lined with a perpetual self-loathing; every syllable he uttered seemed laden with a dark depression. "And you are my grandson."

"Ronald Talbot. My father was John."

"I know," Lawrence said softly. "I named him after my father. He was to be my hope that the darkness was finally over. That the curse was over. What happened to him?"

"He blew his brains out when I was eight years old." Ron said the words harshly. He could not keep the hatred out of his voice. This man was the reason his father had died. This man was the reason he had become a monster.

Lawrence Talbot gasped then, like a man who had just been stabbed in the heart. He covered his face with his big hands. "I have lost so many people over the years," he said finally, "that you would think it wouldn't hurt any more. But it still does- every time."

"He killed himself because he didn't want to become like you, 'Gramps,'" Ron said angrily. "All things considered, he may have gotten the better deal."

"What do you remember of last night?" Lawrence asked him, ignoring Ron's attempts to bait him.

"Everything. I remember the doctor- Frankenstein-"

"So he did find the offspring of the Monster's creator," Lawrence murmured. "I thought that he might have been lying to me. He's the Prince of Lies."

"He found her. She injected me with your blood." Ron closed his eyes. "I remember that. I remember _changing_. I remember fighting- Frankenstein's Monster and the Bride, and killing Veronica-"

"Veronica?"

"She was my girlfriend. She said she loved me." He shut his eyes. "And I killed her."

"I'm sorry-"

"She was Dracula's Daughter. She lured me here with promise of a cure- of a way to overcome that bloody temper I inherited from you! And instead- instead-" Ron stared into the eyes of Lawrence Talbot. "She damned me- just like you did!"

Lawrence Talbot looked into his eyes. "I didn't want that for you, Ronald. I didn't want that for your father. I left when my latest cure failed. I didn't want to risk hurting your father or grandmother. I had to get away- and then I ran into Dracula again. I've been his captive ever since."

"Why hasn't he killed you?"

"Dracula does not waste something that may be of use to him. Besides, he wants me to suffer more than that. I would welcome death, Ronald. I have been cursed for almost sixty years. Death- true death- would be a blessing."

"I killed you last night- didn't I?"

"Maybe. I find it hard to remember what happens when I am the Wolf." Lawrence's face twisted into a half-smile. "And I have died many times over the years. I always come back. The Wolf will not let me stay dead."

"I can't believe this. It's a nightmare. Some kind of hoax-"

"It is the truth, Ronald. A truth I would have hoped you would never know. But you do know it now. So Dracula has the notes of Frankenstein, both of his creations, and a descendant of Henry Frankenstein to carry on his work. He has to be stopped before he uses an army of such creatures against the world."

"Stop him? Us? You and me? Against Dracula?"

"He's helpless by day."

"But the Frankenstein Monsters aren't."

"You don't have to come with me." Lawrence Talbot rose to his feet. "Dracula and I have been fighting each other a long time now. It ends now. And with luck, neither of us will survive."

"With such a positive attitude how can you not succeed?" Ron said sarcastically. He looked around. "On the other hand, I can't stay here. I remember monsters- alligator things- and God only knows when they'll be coming back. I'll go with you as far as the Castle- then I'll decide if I want revenge more than I want to get away."

"Fair enough," Lawrence said. "Let's go."


	12. Chapter 12

The Talbots were both aware of the Alligator Men dogging their steps as they left the environs of the swamp. "They know us for what we are," Lawrence Talbot told Ron, "even in daylight."

"Do you think they'll attack us?" Ron asked. His teeth ached as though they were eager to tear into scaly flesh. Even as a man, he felt more animalistic than he had before coming to Terror Island.

_And it's going to get worse,_ he realized. _Someday I won't even want to be normal . . ._

"No," Larry told him. "They're afraid of us. They won't attack us unless they're forced to. You taught them to respect us last night. And the closer we get to Dracula's Castle, the more reluctant they'll be to follow us. Even they have enough intelligence to know that is not a safe place."

Ron said nothing to that. _Why am I doing this?_ he asked himself. _This man may be my grandfather, but I don't owe him anything. Going into Dracula's Castle- even in daylight- could get me killed. Why am I doing it?_

Part of it was a very human desire for revenge. Dracula had made him into a monster, something less than human. He would never forgive that- and he would make the Lord of the Vampires pay. He would make the vampire suffer . . .

But there was something else . . . something more primal than a desire for revenge. It was a kind of feral anger in the depths of the inhuman portion of his soul. The Werewolf would not leave Terror Island while Dracula remained . . . it would not let Ron leave.

The Vampire Lord was a rival- another hunter in the night. The Werewolf would not rest until he was destroyed. The night wasn't big enough for the two of them.

He could not explain this- even to himself- but he knew that he could not leave Terror Island until Dracula had been dealt with.

"Will there be any guards?" Ron asked as the Castle came into sight.

"No," Larry replied. "Dracula depends on the Alligator Men to guard the Island. The woman- his servant- protects him during the day and sees to the interior of the Castle. I don't know what she is, but she isn't human."

"She's the Bride of Frankenstein's Monster."

Larry Talbot nodded. "That could explain it."

"The Monster is there. And so is Elizabeth Frankenstein. Somehow I don't think they're going to let us just waltz in and put a stake in Dracula."

"You might be surprised," Larry said. "The Monster is hard to understand. He can be capable of great cruelty, but he can also be very loyal. There have been times when we have been friends."

"I wouldn't count on it," Ron considered. "Do you know where Dracula sleeps during the day?"

"In the dungeon, in a cell not too far from mine. He needs a safe place to rest during the day, and what better place than his own dungeon?"

"Is that a guess or do you know it for a fact?"

"I know Dracula."

"And he knows you. He'll be expecting us."

"Most likely. But he will have to remain in his coffin or risk death from the rays of the sun. The only ones we have to worry about are Frankenstein's Monsters- and his descendant."

"That could be enough." They had finally reached the edge of the woods- to go any farther would be to deprive themselves of what cover they had left. "You aren't planning on charging through the front door are you?"

"I'm cursed, not stupid," Larry replied with something like humor in his eyes. "Dracula had to have the electronic equipment he needed for that laboratory of his delivered- there has to be another entrance besides the front door. We'll circle the Castle."

They did this thing, and discovered a large back entrance- huge black iron doors even larger than the one that was the Castle's front entrance. Unfortunately, the doors were locked with a huge padlock.

"I don't think we could break through that door even in our wolf forms," Ron observed.

"Perhaps not," Larry agreed. "Let's look for a window that's within reach."

After a few minutes, they spotted several possibilities . . . but each one seemed to be just out of reach. The closest one was more than ten feet off the ground.

"This is going to be more difficult than I thought," Larry murmured.

Not being from as polite a generation, Ron snarled, "Damn! I'm getting _awfully _pissed off here . . ."

Larry turned to look at him and gasped.

"What is it?" Ron snapped at him. His jaws ached and his skin itched.

"Your eyes- they're yellow. Your teeth-"

Ron touched his teeth and felt the slight jutting of small fangs. "But it's hours before the next moon rise."

"You aren't like me," Larry said. "I was a normal man before I became a werewolf. You're the grandson of a werewolf- and Dracula thought that would make a difference in how you changed. Maybe it made more of a difference than he thought. Maybe you don't need the moon to change."

"Swell." Larry Talbot had always had the dubious comfort of knowing that he spent most of his time as a human being- only when the full moon came upon him did he lose his humanity. If he was right- if Ron was _that_ different- than he couldn't count on that. He had no way of knowing when the wolf would come upon him.

"I'm sorry, Ron," Larry said softly. "But we can use this. No man could reach that window- but a werewolf can. You can make it through that window. Then you can find some way to lower a rope or open a door and let me in. It's our best chance."

"But if I let the wolf out, I- he- may turn on you."

"You have to hold him. You have to control him long enough to make it to the window."

"How much success have you had at controlling the wolf?"

"We're different," Larry said. "I barely remember anything when I'm the wolf. You do. You can talk. You have more control. You can do it. You have to do it."

Ron stared at him. "You're insane, you know. I could turn wolf and rip out your throat."

"You did that already," Larry pointed out. "It didn't kill me. I can't die- not like that." He looked at the Castle. "You have to do it, Ronald. If I could, I would do it myself. But I am only able to change by the moon- and I would be a mindless animal. You're our only hope of getting into the Castle."

"All right!" Ron snapped. "I'll try!" He began running towards the Castle.

With every step, he left another piece of his humanity behind. By the fourth step he was a Werewolf again. Like a gray-furred shadow, he ran to the window- and leaped through it.

Thick, heavy glass- nearly a quarter inch thick- shattered as he burst into the room and landed on the floor in front of the bed.

"What the hell-?" Elizabeth Frankenstein demanded from her bed as she rubbed her eyes.

The Werewolf smiled at her. "Why, hello, doctor . . . I'm _awfully_ glad to see you again."

With the reluctant help of Doctor Frankenstein, the Werewolf tore her sheets into strips and fashioned a reasonably sturdy rope. With its aid he was easily able to haul Larry Talbot into the Castle.

"You are of the House of Frankenstein," was the first thing Larry Talbot said to her.

"Yes I am. Ronald must have told you about me."

"Yes, he did. But I would have recognized you anyway." Larry looked deeply into her eyes, and there was something about the way he did it that made Doctor Frankenstein look away. "You have the same fanaticism in your eyes as the other Frankensteins I have met." He turned to the Werewolf. "Become human again, Ron."

"Why?" the Werewolf demanded.

"We need the good doctor alive- for the moment. The longer you're in wolf form the harder that's going to be to arrange." He looked at the "good doctor" and smiled. "I'm still a man at the moment and I can barely restrain myself from ripping her throat out."

Reluctantly, the Werewolf closed his eyes and gave way to the man again. Ron looked at the surprised Elizabeth Frankenstein. "What can I say? I'm the new and improved version."

"Even Dracula didn't anticipate that," Elizabeth Frankenstein said.

"I'm glad you brought him up," Larry said. "Do you know where he is?"

"Of course. But there's no way I'm going to tell you. He'd kill me. And I know you won't force me, Lawrence Talbot. You're too much the gentleman to use force on a woman."

Ron grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. "I'm not so chivalrous, Doc. I owe you big time for what you did to me. Give me a reason, and I'll rip out your throat. And I won't even bother to become the Werewolf to do it."

She stared at him dispassionately.

"Doctor," Larry said evenly, "even if I am not willing to harm you now, I will be the Wolf Man tonight- and he has no compunction about killing women. You have two choices. Help us- or die."

She stared at him for a moment. "He's in the dungeon- but you probably knew that."

"Yes," Larry admitted, "but we're going to the laboratory first."

"Why?" Elizabeth Frankenstein asked.

"I have hunted Dracula a long time," the sometimes Wolf Man replied. "And I have learned a great deal about vampires. This time, I'm going to be prepared for him. Take us to the laboratory."

Shrugging a thin silk robe over her nightgown, Elizabeth Frankenstein led them to the laboratory.


	13. Chapter 13

It did not take long to do what Larry Talbot wanted in the laboratory at the top of Castle Dracula. Within a few minutes they had accomplished his desire and had turned to head back down towards the dungeon.

"Be careful," Larry warned Ron. "Even though he may seem helpless, Dracula is always treacherous. He may yet have some way of turning the tables on us. Keep an eye on the good doctor; I do not trust her."

"Don't worry about the doc, Gramps," Ron said with a smile. "I haven't had breakfast yet. If she gets troublesome, I'll just have a bite . . . or two."

"I am not intimidated by these theatrics, Ronald," Elizabeth Frankenstein said.

"Good for you, doc. Nice to know you're a tough broad." He looked around. "Grandfather?"

"Yes, Ron?"

"Is it just me or is the lighting strange?"

"Certain aspects of the wolf carry over even when we're in human form. You're just using that part of yourself to see better. Don't worry about it."

Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, they found themselves in a long narrow hall. Heavy wooden doors lined either side of the hallway- and the smell was so foul that even the entirely human Elizabeth Frankenstein wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"I feel like I'm going to need my lungs cleaned after I get out of this place," Ron murmured to no one in particular.

"Which cell is he in?" Larry asked of Doctor Frankenstein.

She shrugged. "I'm not sure."

Ron growled low and soft in his throat. His eyes shone with a faint yellow light. "Doc, you're looking tastier all the time."

"There. The last one on the left."

They walked to the cell door. "Would he lock it?" Ron asked.

"It's not in his nature to be that cautious in his own home," Larry replied, and opened the door.

"Enter freely and of your own will," Elizabeth Frankenstein murmured softly.

"Do we still need her?" Ron asked his grandfather. "I could _really_ use a snack now."

"We may need her inside," Larry replied. "Come on in."

They walked through the door and not a cell- but a large room. It was dank and dark, but the ceiling was ten feet high, and the room had to be at least fifty feet long. Flickering black torches lined the walls. On a marble altar was an antique coffin embroidered with a golden "D".

Also in the room were Adam and Elsa.

Seeing the good doctor being held so tightly by Ron, Adam growled angrily and took a step forward.

"I wouldn't do that, big guy," Ron warned him. His eyes were yellow and his teeth were fangs. "Take another step and the good doctor will be wearing fur tonight."

"Hello, old friend," Larry said to Adam. "You've changed quite a bit. Do you remember me?"

Adam looked at him for a moment, then slowly nodded.

"I have come to end this. I have come to put an end to Dracula. You and I have had our differences, but you know what he is. You know what he has done- and what he will do in the future. Let me stop him."

Adam said nothing.

"We cannot allow them to hurt the Master!" Elsa stated. "You will not hurt the Master- tear the throat out of the Frankenstein woman- I do not care. You will not hurt the Master." She turned to Adam. "He has promised to make others like us! You won't be alone then! There will be others just like us!"

Adam looked at her. He tenderly reached out with a scarred yellow hand- and slapped her down. "No!" he roared. "No more! No one should be this! No one else should be a monster!"

Hissing, Elsa launched herself at the giant.

"She may be small, but she's agile," Ron said, watching the two revenants fight. "I think we had better do what we came for, Grandfather. We won't get a better chance. C'mon, Doc. Let's go pay our final respects to Fangs."

Quickly, the Talbots walked over to the coffin. The beefy Larry Talbot struggled to open the coffin. "It must lock from the inside. I can't open it."

"Here, Grandfather. Hold on to the good doctor." Yellow eyes ablaze, Ron Talbot held up a fur covered hand. With a brutal shove, he thrust his hand through the lacquered black wood. Grunting, he tore the lid off the coffin.

Inside lay Dracula.

He had changed from his evening attire into an old fashioned black tux with a stark white shirt. A red banner crossed his chest and a golden amulet hung on red velvet around his neck. A red lined silk cape was loosely tied around his pale neck, and dried blood was easily visible at the corners of his black lips.

There was something inhuman about him. There was a slight puffiness, a bloated look to his features. He looked for all the world like a well-fed leach.

Elsa looked up from her struggle. "No!" she cried. "Master! Awake!"

"It's too late for that," Larry Talbot said, drawing the old fashioned hypodermic out of his shirt pocket.

Elsa tried to break free to help her sleeping lord, but Adam held the struggling pseudo-woman in an iron grip.

Carefully, Larry Talbot held up the hypodermic. "I learned much in my years as Dracula's prisoner. I learned why vampires must never drink the blood of werewolves." He pushed the plunger slightly, and a thin red stream of blood touched Dracula's face.

"It's poison to them," Elizabeth Frankenstein said. "Dracula told me that himself."

"It's something worse than poison to someone like Dracula. Something much worse." With a grin that made his good natured face seem even more fearsome than that of the Wolf Man, Larry Talbot shoved the needle into Dracula's chest and depressed the plunger.

Dracula screamed and bolted upright.

Elsa wailed like a lost soul.

Screaming, Dracula covered his face with his hands. "No!" he cried out. "No!"

"Will it make him one of us?" Ron asked his grandfather.

"No," Larry Talbot said, smiling. "It will do something worse. Something far worse.

"It will make him human."

Dracula lowered his hands. His face was darker now, his fangs were gone. He was breathing heavily, and sweating. "What have you done to me!"

Larry Talbot grinned savagely. "I've made you human, Dracula. Now you're just a man again. And now you're going to pay for your crimes. Now I'm going to kill you- with my bare hands."


	14. Chapter 14

Fifty years of enmity- twenty years of captivity- made Larry Talbot as savage as the Wolf Man had ever been. With a ferocious burst of strength, he yanked the now human Count Dracula out of his coffin and slammed him again the floor.

"How do you like it, Dracula?" he snarled. "How do you like being human?"

"Release me!" Dracula fumed. "I am Dracula!"

"You're going to be a dead man again, Dracula," Larry panted as he jerked him to his feet and slammed him against the wall. "You're going to die again, Dracula- and this time you're going to stay dead."

"No!" Elsa cried, squirming so frantically that she was finally able to tear herself free of Adam. "I'll kill you for hurting the Master!"

"No you won't!" Ron said, smoothly interposing himself between the Bride of Frankenstein and his grandfather. "Grandfather's going to get his due this time, and no one's going to take that from him- not even you!"

Elsa hissed at him.

Ron Talbot gave himself over to the wolf. The gray fur on his arms traveled up his chest. His facial features softened, blurred, and twisted themselves into a more bestial shape. Holding his black clawed hands up, he growled a warning at Elsa.

"No!" Adam said, stepping forward.

Not sure if Frankenstein's Monster would help or hinder her, Elsa leaped at the Werewolf.

For all her inhuman speed, though, the Bride wasn't fast enough. With something more primal than grace, the Werewolf twisted out of her way, seized her arm, and hurled her forward.

The Bride smashed into the coffin with enough force to shatter the ancient wood. She twitched for a moment, then lay still.

"No!" Adam cried again, and lumbered towards the Werewolf with murder in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Dracula slammed his fists on Larry's wrists, forcing the sometimes-Wolf Man to break his grip. "You fool! Even before I was a vampire, I was a warrior, a leader of men! I will destroy you!"

"You've been dead too long for that, Count!" Larry said, rubbing one of his wrists. "You've forgotten what pain's about. I've lived with pain for over fifty years now- I know all about pain!"

He smashed the palm of his hand into Dracula's fine aquiline nose. The former vampire cried out in pain as an explosion of blood splattered his shirt.

"I don't want to hurt you," the Werewolf said as he dodged Adam's clumsy fists. "I wouldn't really mind it, but I don't want to hurt you, Adam. Don't do this."

"You hurt her!"

"She doesn't love you, Adam! She never loved you! She didn't love you then- she doesn't love you now! She's Dracula's creature! Don't you see that?"

"She's mine!" Adam wailed with all the loneliness of a century of life spent feared and hated. "She's all I have!"

The Werewolf seized Frankenstein's hands. "Then you have nothing!"

Adam cried out- an indescribable sound of misery and loss. He fell to his knees.

And Elizabeth Frankenstein watched him with nothing of pity or compassion in her eyes. She watched the creature that had protected her, served her- she watched his misery and did nothing.

And the Werewolf that had been Ronald Talbot saw the lack of feeling in her eyes. He looked at her and said, "You know something, Doc? I think the most monstrous creature in this dungeon is the only one of us who's entirely human."

Elizabeth Frankenstein said nothing to this. She merely looked at him.

Dracula and Larry Talbot rolled on the cold stone floor of the dungeon and against the walls. Cursing and spitting at each other, the two old enemies fought with all the ferocity a half-century of hatred could generate.

Dracula had spoken the truth when he said that he was a soldier, a warrior of a lost age when men had fought with swords and bare hands. He knew more about hand to hand combatant than the beefy Larry Talbot. In a normal fight, this knowledge would have given him the edge he needed to overcome his foe.

But it was not a normal battle. He had been a vampire too long- he was not used to human weaknesses, human limitations. It had been centuries since he had fought a foe strong enough to pose a threat to his life. He had forgotten too much.

And Larry Talbot fought like a maniac. He ignored Dracula's attempts to seize his heavy throat and snapped at the former vampire's fingers like a rabid dog when the nobleman tried to put out his eyes. Disregarding his own safety, Larry seemed intent on choking the life out of Dracula- and nothing would stand in his way.

Finally sensing that Larry Talbot would be satisfied with nothing less than his death, Dracula summoned the strength to break free. "I am Dracula!" he declared fiercely. "I cannot be destroyed! I will walk the night once more, Talbot- and you and yours will die by my hands!"

"Come here and say that," Larry said in a low voice, his hands twitching, his eyes feverish with the desire to throttle the thin neck of the now-human vampire lord.

Dracula looked into those eyes and did the only thing he could- he ran.

Snarling as though he were under the influence of a full moon, Larry Talbot ran after him.

The Werewolf paused. The urge to kill was upon, but it was only a ghost of what it had been last night. Apparently, the wolf within him was more willing to allow him to do what he wanted in the daylight hours. He felt wild and powerful, but he did not have the irresistible urge to kill that had seized him last night- and would seize him again with the next full moon.

He did not want to kill Adam or the unconscious Elsa. He felt a kinship with the creations of Frankenstein. He knew what it was to be different- he had known it all his life- and his transformation had only made him more aware of what it was to be an outsider to the human race. He had nothing against them- even Elsa's loyalty to Dracula did not make him angry. She was what she was; and Dracula was her reason for living.

Elizabeth Frankenstein angered him. Her hand had given him the injection of his grandfather's blood. She had stripped him of his humanity.

But . . . it was not his place to deal with her.

And Dracula was his grandfather's meat. The older werewolf had the right to that kill. Even the wolf within Ron Talbot would not deny him that.

His own bloodlust would have to wait, the Werewolf decided. For now, he had to follow his grandfather. The human part of him had to see how this turned out.

He looked at Adam. The Frankenstein Monster had knelt beside the unconscious Elsa and was gently stroking her hair. It was obvious that neither of them would be going anywhere soon.

"Stay out of this, Doc," he told the last Frankenstein. "This isn't your fight- and I'm just waiting for a reason to kill you."

Turning, he ran up the stairs.

Dracula ran.

Fear was a new thing to him. He had never known fear before- not in his earlier struggles with Talbot's hairy counterpart, not on the field of battle. He had not even flinched when his mortal life was taken from him by a vampire. He was Dracula- Son of the Devil- and did not know fear.

But that had been before.

With the sudden return of his mortality, the ex-vampire found himself slave to emotions and sensations he had forgotten. The thought of dying- of being killed- unmanned him. He did not want to die; and he would not risk dying at the hands of a creature that was only barely human.

_I am Dracula,_ he thought. _I deserve better!_

He ran for the front door- the door that Elsa had repaired after the Wolf Man had burst through it- and yanked it open. He instinctively covered his face when the sun hit him, but could not bring himself to move forward.

The sun no longer had the power to harm him, Dracula knew, but five hundred years of habit would not break- even when his life was at stake. Try as he might, the Count found himself unable to cross the threshold.

"I'm coming for you, Dracula!" Larry Talbot howled as he came out of the dungeon.

Cursing, Dracula abandoned his attempt to leave the Castle and did the only thing he could- he ran up the stairs to the laboratory.

In the dungeon, Elsa stirred. "The Master?" she asked groggily. "Where is he?"

"He fled," Elizabeth Frankenstein told her. "Lawrence Talbot went after him. Ronald went after Lawrence."

"I must help the Master!" Elsa cried, and she got up. Shaking off Adam's attempts to hold her, she ran out of the dungeon.

Adam took half a step after her.

"Let her go, Adam," Elizabeth Frankenstein told her. "She's no use to us now. I have Henry Frankenstein's journals. It is time we leave this place."

Adam looked at her a moment. "No," he said softly.

"No?" Elizabeth Frankenstein stared at him in surprise. "What do you mean no?"

"It ends now," Adam said- and he picked up Elizabeth Frankenstein.

"Adam, put me down! I order you to put me down!"

Ignoring her cries, the Frankenstein Monster walked out of the dungeon in search of the others.

They all came together in the laboratory.

Dracula ran through the lab, searching for a weapon or some means of escape. Larry Talbot stalked him with murder in his eyes. A savage grin twisted his lips as he walked forward, eager to commit his first murder as a human being.

The Werewolf that had been Ron Talbot watched his grandfather chase his old enemy.

Elsa burst into the laboratory. "Master!" she cried.

"Elsa! Destroy them! Destroy them both!" Dracula commanded.

"Sorry, Elsa!" the Werewolf said, leaping at the revenant. "Like I said before, you aren't putting a stop to this party!"

The two monsters began circling each other, looking for the right moment to attack.

Distracted by the sight, Dracula paused. Larry Talbot did not. A true predator, he took advantage of the moment and seized the former vampire by the throat.

And then came Adam, the Frankenstein Monster. He dropped Elizabeth Frankenstein to the floor. "Stay!" he commanded.

"Adam!" Elsa cried. "Help me! Help me save the Master!"

Adam walked over to her. "I will help you," he said.

The Werewolf looked at the two monsters. "I love a challenge," he muttered as though he were trying to convince himself of that fact.

Elsa smiled as she turned to regard the Werewolf. So certain was she of her victory now that she did not notice what Adam was doing until it was too late- she didn't notice until his massive hands came together in a double blow to the back of her head.

It was a blow that would have torn the head off a human woman. Since Elsa was not human, she merely sighed and fell to the floor.

"Take her," Adam directed the Werewolf. "Go!"

His eyes searched the laboratory. Something like a smile came to his lips as he found the lever he had been looking for.

"Adam, no!" Elizabeth Frankenstein commanded, but Adam paid her no heed. He was through listening to the Daughter of Frankenstein.

He walked to the lever.

"No!" Dracula said, struggling in Larry Talbot's grasp. "He'll destroy us all! He must not pull that lever!"

Larry Talbot's smile became gentle and human. "At last," he said with a sigh. "It ends now. Ronald, leave! Now! While you have time!"

"Come with me-"

"No. Dracula ends now. I'm going to make sure of it! Go now!"

"Don't!" Elizabeth Frankenstein cried as she ran to Adam. She seized one of his massive hands. "Don't!"

He ignored her.

Ron Talbot might have stayed to persuade his grandfather, but the wolf within him knew that death was coming to this place- and it wished to live. Seizing the unconscious Elsa, the Werewolf threw her over his shoulder and leaped to one of the pulley chains that were used to raise the platform out of the skylight.

He climbed rapidly, and reached the wolf.

He did not look back. He did not say goodbye. He merely howled in farewell.

Larry Talbot smiled.

Dracula struggled ferociously to live.

Elizabeth Frankenstein turned and made a desperate run for the door.

Adam, the Frankenstein Monster, looked at Dracula and the man who was a wolf and smiled. He said the three words he had first said a century before:

"We belong dead."

And he pulled the lever.


	15. Chapter 15

69

THE MONSTER'S REVENGE

Note: These particular versions of Dracula, Frankenstein, Frankenstein's Bride, the

Wolfman are the property of Universal Pictures. The Alligator Man belongs

To 20th Century Fox.

Epilogue

It was late afternoon before Elsa awoke.

"Hi," Ron Talbot said. He was sitting in one of the chairs on the speedboat, looking at the smoking wreckage that had been Dracula's Castle. The boat wasn't moving- it was just drifting with the current.

He was human again.

"The Master?" Elsa asked.

"Gone. He was in the Castle. Adam pulled the lever."

"He has a habit of doing that every time I meet him," Elsa said softly. "He's- gone?"

"Adam?"

"The Master."

"I'm afraid so. Dracula. Adam. Elizabeth Frankenstein. They're all gone."

"He was all I had," Elsa murmured.

"I bleed for you." Ron stared at the wreckage. "They're all gone- and we're alive."

"Why did you save me?"

"Adam asked me to. Well, to be frank, he _told_ me to. The guy was kind of pushy that way." Ron sighed. "And Larry- my grandfather- told me to go. He wanted to die, you know. He spent the last fifty years of his life giving death to others when all he wanted to do was die himself."

"What will you do now?"

"That's funny. I was going to ask you that same question."

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"I know what I'm going to do." Ron's eyes were bleak. "Tonight, when the moon is full again, I'm going to hunt- hunt and kill. Unless I kill myself."

"Do you want to do that?"

"No. I want to live. I want to find a cure- or at least a means of controlling what I am." He looked back at the Castle. "But if I have to hunt, I know what I want to hunt."

"What?"

"Monsters. Monsters like Dracula. Monsters like me."

"I can help you." Elsa looked at him with something like animation in her eyes. "I have Dracula's contacts, access to his funds. I can help you do this thing."

"Why would you want to help me? You worked for Dracula- God alone knows what you helped him do over the years. Why should I trust you?"

Elsa looked at him. "I need something," she said with a whisper. "I need a reason."

A reason. A reason to justify her existence. A reason to matter.

Ronald Talbot understood that. "Okay," he said finally. "You can help me." He smiled. "Tonight we start. Tonight we hunt.

"Tonight it begins . . ."

The End . . . or maybe, just maybe, the Beginning . . .


End file.
